


A Study in Miya

by StreetSoldierin



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Bickering, Break Up, Brotherly Love, Character Study, Comfort Food, Coming Out, Crying, Family Bonding, Feels, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, No Incest, Osamu is a great brother, Sibling Bonding, Single Parent Mama Miya, atsumu needs a hug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:41:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27592876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StreetSoldierin/pseuds/StreetSoldierin
Summary: Atsumu is going through his first ever break-up, and Osamu doesn't really know how to handle the situation. But they make it work, as they always do.
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), Miya Atsumu & Miya Osamu
Comments: 10
Kudos: 254





	A Study in Miya

Atsumu had always liked to do things _first_.

He came out of the womb first, he started walking first, he spoke his first words weeks before his brother did ( _baka_ , addressing said brother) and he was the first out of the two to pick up a volleyball. The only thing he ever came second in was when it came to eating speed, and he probably could have beaten his twin there, too, if he actually tried to gulf his food down as fast as him, but to put it in his own words, _that’s just nasty._

It wasn’t really a surprise when Atsumu came out first. He did it in true Atsumu-fashion, of course, over-the-top dramatic and with a huge speech prepared, and in the end there was hugging and crying on his and their mother’s part. Osamu just hung back a little, but he saw the glimmer of uncertainty in his brother’s eyes when he turned around to face him - they knew each other inside and out, but still, this was big news and Osamu knew just how frightening revealing oneself like this was. He _knew_ , of course he knew, and so he did what he had always done and took the leap into the cold water right behind his twin.

“I’m gay, too.”

Atsumu’s eyes went wide before going soft, a lop-sided grin replacing the teeth worrying his bottom lip just seconds ago.

“Yer not sayin’ that just ‘ta copy me, are ya?”

His tone was teasing, but Osamu could read him like a book, the way his shoulders had relaxed, how his fists had unclenched from the hem of his shirt, the softer set of his jaw.

“Believe it or not, but the world doesn’t revolve around ya.”

“Sounds fake ‘ta me, but okay.”

“Boys,” their mother interrupted, tears still drying on her cheeks, but she was smiling and a knot that had been sitting right at the top of his lungs for far too long now finally got undone in Osamu’s chest. He hadn’t realized how hard it had been to breathe for these past few months after realizing his eyes weren’t drawn to girls the same way they were to boys. “No fighting.”

Osamu scoffed and glared at his brother. “Whatever, scrub.”

“Jerk,” Atsumu retorted promptly and stuck out his tongue.

Their mother just sighed and pulled them into a hug, one left, one right, like she had always done ever since they were kids. Osamu pulled a face at Atsumu behind her back, but then the both gave in - judging by Atsumu’s expression, Osamu thought that maybe he had had trouble breathing lately, too. Both their chests were rising and falling steadily now.

Always being the first also meant, of course, that Atsumu got his first boyfriend before Osamu. It was a huge deal, and his mother was making a big fuss about it, though nobody was really surprised it hadn’t taken him long to bring someone home - this was Atsumu after all, the boy whose entire existence screamed _look at me_. Osamu didn’t mind though, he never had.

What he _did_ care about, however, was that with a first boyfriend also came a first breakup, and that was a whole new mess that he didn’t know how to handle in the slightest. After sixteen years of dealing with Atsumu’s tantrums and theatrics, he had most of the routine down by now; he knew exactly what to say or do when Atsumu was in one of his moods. He knew when to stay away, when to keep picking on him, or when he actually needed to take it down a notch.

There were a thousand ways of how Atsumu aired his grievances. Sometimes he yelled, sometimes he just stomped around the house with a black cloud of passive aggressiveness surrounding him, sometimes he simply sulked, and more often than not he got into a scuffle with Osamu and they both ended up a little bruised and getting scolded by their mother. Those were all things Osamu was familiar with, and that he could deal with.

What he could _not_ deal with, however, was a sobbing Atsumu in the bathroom who was obviously trying very hard to stay quiet. 

Now, there were exactly two things wrong with this picture: One, Atsumu never tried to stay quiet. He was the loudest person Osamu ever had the misfortune of knowing, and when he was in vicinity, he made it audibly known. Osamu was pretty sure his brother didn’t even _know_ how to whisper. 

But secondly, and more importantly, Atsumu didn’t cry like this. Sometimes when he got really angry, hot tears would start spilling down his cheeks as he yelled, and as a kid he had sometimes cried when their mom had to work overnight and the babysitter was called in to take care of them instead, but they weren’t kids anymore, and this was not angry-crying either.

For the split of a second, Osamu considered just acting as if he hadn’t heard, because he was unsure of how to react, but another muffled sob from the bathroom made his heart clench and he knew he couldn’t just walk away.

Slowly, he pushed the bathroom door open to reveal his brother sitting on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, cheeks tear-stained and with a crumpled shirt in his hand that he was pressing to his face to muffle the sobs that wrecked his frame every few seconds.

Osamu took an unsteady step forward. “’Tsumu?”

The figure on the bathroom floor flinched violently, face lifting from the soaked t-shirt with glassy eyes staring up in shock, and there was just no way that this really was Osamu’s brother. Atsumu was unbreakable, he was a meteor that crashed through his course of life without looking left or right or caring what people thought, never slowing down, always powered up to full speed. This person here in front of Osamu looked nothing like that. His shoulders were slouched, his eyes red-rimmed from the tears, and the worst thing was his voice, so small and quiet and _not Atsumu-like_ when he said, “Don’t laugh.”

“Nah,” Osamu replied equally as quiet - but it didn’t sound so wrong coming from him, because this was who he was, this was what he was supposed to sound like, but not Atsumu, who could be found singing at the top of his lungs at seven in the morning which drove their mother and Osamu crazy.

He did have a tendency to kick Atsumu when he was down, but not like this, never like this when it was actually serious. 

He sat down next to his twin. Being around him had never been so tense before, but when their shoulders bumped into each other and Atsumu choked down another sob, Osamu felt himself relax. This was just his brother, he reminded himself, and he was allowed to break, no matter how foreign that felt.

“’Ts okay,” he murmured and turned his head to look at Atsumu, who was staring at the shirt in his hand even though his teary gaze seemed to go straight through it. “He was an asshole anyways.”

Another strangled noise escaped Atsumu’s throat as he tried to inhale at the same time as another sob tried to push up and out, and Osamu reached out to flick his twin on the forehead. A little too harshly, maybe, but it did the trick and Atsumu whipped around to stare at him instead of burning holes through the shirt with his glare.

“Don’t do that, dumbass, are ya tryin’ ta choke yerself? Just cry, for fuck’s sake, ‘ts just me.”

Atsumu stared at him out of wide eyes with tears still flowing, for one, two, three seconds, and then his lower lip wobbled, his face scrunched up in an expression Osamu had never seen on him before, and he let out a sob so heartbreaking it tore through Osamu like lightning. His arms moved like on instinct as he reached out and yanked his brother against his chest to let him bury his face and cry there.  
He wasn’t used to this, the entire scenario was weird and new and kind of confusing, but Osamu didn’t really care. Atsumu was hurting, and he’d give anything to make it stop. He couldn’t make it disappear, so he just held him and hoped the tears seeping through his shirt would wash some of the pain out of his brother and into him instead. He’d gladly take it if it meant Atsumu would stop making these horrible, pained sounds.

Part of him thought it worked, because once Atsumu was finally done with crying, he looked a little more at peace, while Osamu’s chest ached in a way he had never known before. He didn’t ask what happened. Atsumu was a menace at best with the way he never shut up, so if he didn’t talk about it on his own, that clearly meant he wasn’t ready to, and Osamu didn’t want him to cry again.

“Come on,” he nudged his brother and stood up, pulling him with him. “Wash yer face and meet me in the kitchen.”

It was time for dinner anyways and their mother wouldn’t be back until late at night, so Osamu hoped comfort food would work its magic.

Atsumu appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, eyes still puffy and red, but the tear tracks on his cheeks were gone, and he plopped down on one of the chairs to watch Osamu cut the vegetables on the kitchen counter.

“’m not really hungry.”

“Shut up,” Osamu simply replied and turned on the stove.

Maybe this was the first time seeing his brother break down like this, but he reminded himself it was essentially the same as every other tantrum Atsumu threw, just a little more intense. He’d sulk, he’d struggle, but he’d get over it eventually, because as much as Osamu teased his brother for being a petulant child, he knew that he also had every ounce of willpower to push through things like this.

So instead of fussing, he just dropped a plate of hot food in front of Atsumu and whacked him on the back of his head, not as hard as he usually would, but still hard enough to make him whine and glare up at him.

“Eat up,” he ordered and plopped down across from him in front of his own plate.

Atsumu didn’t stop glaring, but at least he followed suit and started wolfing down his food at such a speed that he almost finished at the same time as Osamu. Not hungry. Right.

Usually they’d start arguing over who would do the dishes - logically, it should be Atsumu since Osamu had cooked - but today Osamu just picked them up and walked over to the sink. His twin picked up on the lack of reluctance almost instantly.

“Didya finally realize I’m right?”

“Nah,” Osamu replied calmly and rolled up his sleeves to start scrubbing the pan, “I just figured the less time ya spend in this kitchen, the better. Don’t wanna lose more plates to yer clumsiness.”

“That was _one_ time!”

“One time this month, yeah, but I’m pretty sure ya destroyed half our dishware over the course of yer life.”

“As if ya never broke anything.”

“Nope.” That was a lie, of course, and Atsumu probably knew, but he was starting to sound like himself again with the usual bite returning to his voice, and Osamu wanted to hear more of it. “Not everyone has two left hands.”

“Fuck you, I do _not_ ,” Atsumu cried out, and Osamu grinned to himself, back turned in a way so his brother wouldn’t see. “I’m a great fuckin’ setter, and ya know it. Yer just jealous ya didn’t get as good as me.”

Atsumu was the better setter, grantedly, even though it had been one of the few things in their lives Osamu had tried out first. But first of all, he had quit setting in favor of becoming a spiker on his own initiative, and two, he’d rather stick his head in the kitchen sink and drown himself than compliment his brother.

“Nothin’ ta be jealous of there, honestly.”

A coaster hit him on the back of his head, and he turned around with a scowl to wipe his wet hands on his brother’s face, earning himself a shriek.

“What the hell, ‘Samu, gross!”

“Stop bitchin’ and make some popcorn, will ya? Can’t expect me to do everythin’ round here.”

Atsumu paused for a second, still wiping the dirty water off his face. “Popcorn?”

“Yeah,” Osamu replied casually and went back to the counter to dry and put away the dishes. “Imma watch that new horror movie. If ya wanna join, ya better have popcorn to pay a tolerance fee or else I’ll kick ya off the couch.” 

“Psh, as if ya could watch that alone,” Atsumu scoffed, but stood up to get a fresh pot on the stove nevertheless. “Last time we watched a horror movie ya slept with yer light on the entire night.”

“Bullshit.”

“I know ya did, ya thought I was sleepin’ before turnin’ it on, but I wasn’t.”

“Funny, I remember ya sayin’ the morning after that ya fell asleep right away and slept like a baby. Not so unbothered either, huh?”

“At least I didn’t need a night light.”

“Shut up and make the popcorn.”

It was true that Osamu wasn’t especially fond of horror movies. Though he didn’t mind them, he certainly didn’t need them either, but he knew Atsumu was crazy for them and it had been the only thing he could think of to prevent his brother sulking in their room for the entire night.

So instead, he suffered through two hours of jumpscares, cheap special effects, and a little too much gore for his liking, but at least Atsumu was laughing - even though it was at Osamu’s expense - and he got to throw popcorn at his twin’s face. It wasn’t all that bad.

When it got too late to stay awake any longer though and they had cleaned up the mess they had created, they went to bed like on any ordinary night, with Atsumu kicking Osamu in the hollow of his knees and then leaping up the top bunk to safety before his brother regained balance. Osamu spat an insult up at his grinning face before killing the light and retreating to his bottom bunk.

He remembered the day when they had gotten the bunk bed, once their mother had been sure they wouldn’t accidentally kill themselves by falling off of it, and the way Atsumu had jumped on the ladder and scrambled upwards shouting, “Shotgun!”  
Osamu had argued a little, but only on principle since he actually didn’t mind taking the bottom. Getting up in the mornings was hard enough as it was, he didn’t need a ladder to complicate that even further since not everyone shared the boisterous energy Atsumu woke up with every damn morning.

The bedroom fell silent save for their quiet breathing, a sound Osamu would never admit was soothing to his ears, and he thought maybe this night would end better than he had expected it to. He was already dozing off into a half-sleeping state when he heard the sniffling coming from above.

He opened his eyes, blinking a few times to orientate himself and to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, but a few seconds later the quiet sounds resumed and he sighed through his nose before pushing back the covers.   
Atsumu’s breath hitched audibly - apparently he hadn’t expected him to be awake still - but Osamu just got out of his own bunk and climbed the ladder to invade Atsumu’s.

“Move over.”

Sure enough, he could see tear tracks on his brother’s face, even though Atsumu frantically wiped at his eyes to hide them, but the pale moonlight that was shining in through the curtains they never closed at night reflected on them and betrayed him.

“What are ya doing?”

He moved over nevertheless, and Osamu squeezed in beside him, stealing half of the blanket for himself. The bunks were single-sized and definitely not made for fitting two full-grown boys inside, but he didn’t mind, it wasn’t like personal space was a thing between them anyways.

He considered calling Atsumu out on the tears on his face - they both knew he had seen, anyways, but he also knew what it would do to Atsumu’s ego if he was caught breaking down not only once, but twice within a single day, and so Osamu decided to take one for the team.

“Can’t sleep. That final scene in the movie was just nasty.”

Atsumu chuckled. It sounded a little wet, but Osamu picked up on the evident relief in his tone, and knew he had made the right choice of words.

“Told ya. Ya just can’t handle yer horror movies.”

“Whatever,” he scoffed, “don’t snore in my ear or I’ll kick you.”

“Rude, ‘Samu, you’re the one who came up here.”

“Shut up and sleep.”

There was still a bit of sniffling after that, but judging by the way it came in steady, controlled intervals it was just Atsumu calming down, and soon enough silence settled over their room again. When Osamu was certain there wasn’t another meltdown on the way, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to drift off again.

A few seconds later, a weight settled against his shoulder, and he sighed through his nose before throwing an arm over his brother’s form and pulling him closer. Atsumu made a surprised noise in the back of his throat - of course he would have waited until he thought Osamu was asleep before cuddling up - but he didn’t pull back, and Osamu didn’t say anything either, just let his arm settle and then went still.

He couldn’t remember when they had slept together like this for the last time - it must have been years - but as he heard Atsumu’s breath even out and felt his chest rise slow and steady under his arm, he found that he didn’t care at all.

The next day they woke up to their mother happily humming in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for the three of them. Neither of the twins noticed her phone wallpaper, a picture of two teenage boys sleeping peacefully arm in arm.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't really know what happened, I don't even headcanon Atsumu to be the older twin but?? here we are?? Idk it just fit the story so I rolled with it.
> 
> Thanks for sticking with me, and if you wanna leave kudos and/or comments I'd be over the moon. You can also come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/Str44tSoldierin) or [instagram](https://www.instagram.com/streetsoldierin/) in case you wanna geek out with me, i love talking to y'all!


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